Give Me the Name of God

(This chapter is a key chapter in the whole book, I hope readers will not miss the details)

Manda came to the poet's room. The poet was still the same. Except that his beard had grown a lot, there seemed to be no other changes.

After taking over the gold skeleton balance, the poet did not use it rashly like Guatel, but carefully studied the structure of the scale.

After three days of research, I found nothing.

Next he began to study the material of the scale, but after three days, he still found nothing.

Next, he prayed to Hephaestus. Three days later, he received the oracle and was scolded by the God of Fire to doubt life, but still had no harvest.

On the tenth day, the poet was helpless and put a piece of bread on the tray of the scale, and finally there was a change.

All his previous efforts were ridiculed by Guatel for a long time.

Today, he performed the same demonstration in front of Manda. He placed the bread on the tray on the right and waited for a moment before a magical scene appeared.

The right palm bone began to move slowly, holding the bread.

The crossbar of the balance tilts to the right due to gravity.

After tilting to a certain extent, it started to tilt to the left again.

The crossbar was like a seesaw, with its two ends rising and falling alternately, and the golden bones made a crisp collision sound.

Kali, Kali, Kali...

The amplitude of the fluctuations became smaller and smaller, and the balance returned to balance.

The bread held in the palm of the right hand gradually disappeared, and a plume of khaki smoke rose from the tray on the left.

Smoke got into her nostrils, and Manda shuddered.

The poet asked: "What do you smell?"

Manda thought for a long time and said: "There is the smell of earth, there is the smell of fire, and..."

The poet said: "Is it the smell of some divine power? Just like the unique smell of divine objects and divine blood stones..."

Divine artifacts and divine blood stones? Different fetishes and divine blood stones have different smells!

The poet seemed to know that Manda would have such questions. He took out two sacred blood stones and handed one to Manda first: "This is the sacred blood stone of Qingtian God. You can smell it first. There is sweat and dust on it." odor."

He handed Manda another sacred blood stone: "This is the sacred blood stone of Zeus. It smells of rain and gold."

Sweat and dust do have some smell, rain has some earthy smell, does gold have a smell too?

Manda remembered that the poet was not so sensitive to smells. Was he crazy?

The poet looked at Manda expectantly: "Smell it carefully. Your sense of smell is so sensitive. You will definitely be able to smell it. Their smells are different, but they also have many similarities."

Manda took the two sacred blood stones and smelled them several times, and the expression on her face showed complex changes.

The disdain and helplessness disappeared, replaced by surprise and sigh.

The poet is right, different blood stones do have a common smell, but he has never noticed it.

How to describe this smell?

soil? dust? flame? rust?

It seems like a strange smell, and it seems like all the smells are mixed together.

While Manda was still in a daze, the poet took back the two sacred blood stones and placed the sacred blood stone of Qingtian God in the tray on the right side of the scale.

The finger bones moved and slowly grasped the sacred blood stone.

The horizontal bar of the scale rose and fell again, and the crisp sound of bone impact sounded again.

When the balance returned to balance, the blood stone disappeared, and a drop of red liquid floated above the tray on the left.

"What is this?" Manda asked in shock, "The blood of gods?"

The poet shook his head and carefully held the drop of liquid with his palm.

"You are right, but not entirely. I have been promoted four times since I entered the rank. I know the taste of the blood of the God of Fire. His blood carries the breath of fire. I have also seen the promotions of other believers. The blood of Ares has the smell of iron, the blood of Aphrodite has a special fragrance, the blood of Circe has the taste of herbs, and the blood of each god has a different smell."

Manda rubbed his temples and thought for a long time. He couldn't remember what the smell of Hermes' blood was. The promotion process was both exciting and nervous, so he didn't pay attention to this detail.

The poet stared at the drop of bright red blood and said excitedly: "The smell of divine blood is roughly the same as that of divine blood stone, but what does this drop of blood smell like?"

Manda leaned forward and smelled it. The drop of blood remained suspended in the poet's palm. Manda was really worried that she would suck the drop of blood into her nose if she exerted too much force.

He smelled it carefully for a long time and was shocked.

This drop of blood had the same smell as before, that indescribable smell, that smell that was a mixture of all smells, but the original smell of rain and dust was gone.

"Smell it carefully again. Is it the same smell as the pure blood stone?"

It is the same?

What does pure blood stone taste like? Never noticed it before.

Manda took out a piece of pure divine blood stone from the Dragon Island and smelled it.

The taste is very similar, it should be exactly the same.

Manda wanted to verify it carefully, so he put his nose to the drop of blood again. The poet's palm suddenly rose, and the drop of blood got into Manda's nostril.

"Are you crazy?" Manda jumped up.

Really afraid of what might happen, Manda used her nostrils to blow out air, but the drop of blood just couldn't come out. It seemed to have melted into Manda's blood.

Manda was furious: "What are you going to do? Do you know what this is? Do you want to kill me?"

The poet lowered his palm and slowly explained: "Master, please calm down, I will never harm you. I have used this scale to transform dozens of sacred blood stones, and I have swallowed all the transformed blood. I was also worried that there would be danger, but in fact not only was there no danger, but my strength was greatly improved.

This drop of blood is just like the pure divine blood stone. It can speed up the practice without causing loss. I thought there was no possibility of further promotion in this life. But after swallowing the divine blood dozens of times, I found that the fourth level My path of cultivation has been completed, and I have met the conditions to advance to the fifth level. This scale can transform the divine blood stone into pure divine blood. Do you know what this means? "

What does it mean? Manda couldn't think of it, and he couldn't calm himself down.

I just inhaled an unknown object, how do you think I should calm down?

Wouldn't it be poisonous? You're not going crazy, are you? It won’t transform divinity, right? You won't get lost, right?

Guatel is right, the poet has changed a lot, how dare he do such a thing to Manda! Manda almost didn't recognize him.

Manda jumped up and down in the room until her clothes were soaked with sweat, then she found a chair and sat down.

There is a surge of heat in the body, and it really feels like eating a pure divine blood stone.

The poet's inference is correct, this is a drop of pure divine blood.

But why does the divine blood stone turn into pure divine blood? Why did the bread turn into yellow smoke?

What exactly is the function of this balance?

The poet said: "I didn't notice these trivial matters at first. As I continued to swallow the divine blood, I discovered these details. My thoughts became clearer and clearer enough to sort out all the details. I discovered that this The balance will return all items to their original appearance.”

"What did it look like at the beginning?" Manda picked up the remaining piece of bread and asked, "Did the bread look like a ball of yellow smoke at the beginning? The bread looked like wheat at first!"

"Wheat is not its original form. What is its original form than wheat?"

"More primitive than wheat... Wheat seeds? Isn't that still wheat?"

"It's not the kind of primitiveness you imagined, it's the primitiveness of everything!" the poet said excitedly, "Do you still remember the book you showed Kunta that only had pictures? On the first page, there were two groups of breath, earthy and yellow. Blue, three black balls and one red ball, this is the beginning of the whole world. Earthy yellow is the most original appearance of bread. Flour, wheat, all plants and animals are all transformed from the most original breath. ."

Manda recalled the painting and somewhat understood what the poet meant.

The most primitive form can be traced back to the beginning of chaos.

The first painting in that book should be about the beginning of chaos.

The poet said: "The most primitive world only has breath, darkness and blood. This scale turns everything into the most primitive form. The bread eventually turns into breath, but the blood is still blood, and the blood is the red star." The ball, the blood flows on the body of the god, and it has different divinities, so it has different breaths. When it is restored to its most original form, it will become the purest blood."

Manda tightly covered his eyebrows, and the explosive information made his skull feel like it was being torn apart.

"Did you come up with all this?" Manda felt that the poet was even more unfamiliar.

"Of course not," the poet shook his head and said, "I don't have that kind of wisdom. I was crazy about it, and I was crazy about it. One night, I found that I had explored knowledge that mortals should not explore, and my thoughts began to lose control. Ultimately he chose to commit suicide.”

Manda took a few steps back.

What does it mean that the poet chose to commit suicide? Could it be that the person talking to me in front of me is...

The poet waved his hand and said: "Don't get me wrong, I'm still alive. Kunta saved me. He came to bring me wine and snatched the knife from my hand."

While speaking, the poet opened his clothes, revealing the scabbed wound on his chest.

"If I thrust it any deeper, you might never see me again."

Manda shook his head and said: "This is impossible. Kunta can't stop you at all. He hasn't entered the level yet, and your strength is too different."

The poet shook his head and said: "I don't know why. Kunta always has the power to soften people. He calmed me down. He studied this balance with me."

"So these inferences come from Quinta?"

"I thought so, but Quinta said it all came from the balance, and it was the balance itself that told him all this."

Manda covered his eyebrows again. He now understood why the poet had the thought of committing suicide. Some knowledge was indeed not something that mortals should explore.

"Where is Quinta now?"

"He is studying ancient books."

"Didn't I seal up the ancient books?"

The poet pursed his lips and said: "You know, there are some things that are difficult for you to stop, especially when you are not around. No one can stop Kunta's heart that is obsessed with inquiry."

"I have to take Quinta away, I have to burn that book, I have to complete my promotion as soon as possible, and give this scale to Hermes as soon as possible. This is too evil..."

Just as Manda was about to stand up, he suddenly felt dizzy. The poet quickly helped him sit down: "I know this feeling. On the night when I committed suicide, this feeling was extremely strong. Please take a rest first and try to meditate quietly. , try to calm your mind."

Relying on the sixth-level divinity, Manda continued to adjust his condition. His feeling recovered a little, and he stopped at the tray of the scale.

Is this a mythical object or a mythical beast? Manda felt like this thing was alive!

He gently stroked the knuckles, and a question suddenly came to his mind: "Whose skeleton is this?"

Manda was lost in thought, but she didn't realize that her finger bones were closing one by one, and she was about to grab Manda's fingers.

The poet sitting aside was shocked and quickly pulled Manda's hand back.

Manda shook his head and woke up. He took a few deep breaths and said, "What just happened?"

"You almost got your fingers caught on the tray."

"What happens if you get caught?"

"I don't know what will happen, but it will probably disappear."

Manda was so frightened that he almost lost a golden finger.

For the first time since he came to this world, something could threaten his golden finger.

It’s so evil that it must be dealt with properly.

"I have to seal it in the Styx Island. Before I am promoted, no one can..."

Halfway through her words, Manda's throat got stuck.

The poet looked horrified and said: "What's wrong with you? Are you choking on something?"

It happens to be this time, it happens to be at this time!

Manda covered his throat, holding it in until his face turned red. With a violent cough, he spat out a huge pearl.

The pearl flew to the tray on the right and was firmly held by the finger bones.

The bar rose and fell until it was stable, and the pearls in the tray disappeared.